


The Price of Heroism

by Miss_Muse



Category: Original Work
Genre: Car Accidents, Heroes, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Original work - Freeform, Prequel, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Muse/pseuds/Miss_Muse
Summary: Carter Sullivan has spent his whole life wanting to be a hero. He may not have the powers of one, but he wants to help people. That desire to help has landed him with fatal consequences. As Sully wavers between life and death, he traverses an unknown world, contemplating his actions.





	The Price of Heroism

Sully had never seen something so dark in his life. He had read books describing the richness of it like some fine velvet or a concentration of ink, bleeding through paper to leave a stain. This darkness didn’t match those descriptions. It wasn’t cold the way they always said it was. There was no emptiness to it, no chill that made him feel alone. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his own face, but he could feel it was still solid, still intact. He stood against smooth ground, but he didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know where he was. The last thing he remembered, he had been shopping for Ava’s anniversary gift. Then that little girl…and the car rushing toward her…

Was he _dead?_

He had always imagined he’d die in his own bed, wrinkled and surrounded by a loving wife and their lovely children. But he didn’t even get a prom night. A young tragic death. But at least it was to prevent another. He may have never joined the Partnership, but he died a hero. He could live with that. So to speak, that was.

Taking half a step forward, Sully found himself unable to confidently move forward. Wasn’t the way to Heaven supposed to be bright and clear? If there were angels here to lead the way, he certainly couldn’t see them. He wasn’t sure this was Heaven. Maybe it was some purgatory he would waver in, as God hadn’t been ready to receive him yet. The uncertainty was paralyzing. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t know what could happen if he did.

“Hello?” He shouted out into the darkness in desperation. “Is there anyone out there?”

His voice did not reverberate, instead disappearing across the space as quickly as it had arrived. He held his breath, straining to hear even the slightest sound. There was nothing.

Shoulders slumped, Sully realized that he had few options. Dragging his feet inch by inch across the ground, he continued to call for companionship. He for all he knew, wherever he was could have stretched out infinitely. There may have been more people out there, but he’d never know if he didn’t search.

“Excuse me!” He called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“You are certainly impatient, are you not?” A rich voice asked from no direction in particular, the words accented from somewhere Sully did not recognize. “It is in your best interest to calm yourself down. Otherwise you may worry yourself sick.”

Sully whipped his head around in vain. Where the hell was it coming from? No human could manage to sound so loud, so present, without being near. His stomach landed in his feet.

“Am…Am I…?” The words stuck inside his throat, as the teen found it difficult to say aloud.“Are you…?”

“No, Carter Sullivan, I am not God—your god, at least. And you are not dead.” The voice paused before adding a thoughtful “Yet.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t—” The voice cut him off dismissively.

“You don’t understand, yes yes, I suppose it is a complex concept to newcomers. I don’t mean to be crude, but we don’t really have much time to be wasting, Carter.” The hair on his arm stood on end at the foreboding in the voice, enough so that he didn’t have the sense to correct his name. “You were in fact hit. Your ribs are shattered, your lung punctured, but your spine still intact. However, you are in quite the tricky spot, my friend. It seems the head injury is giving a bit of a problem. The doctors have chosen to induce a coma.”

It paused, allowing Sully a question this time, but his mind was little more than a channel of white noise. _A coma?_ He _was_ dying after all? Dad and Pop and Ava must have been distraught beyond belief. Guilt gnawed at his stomach at the thought of the three of them crowded around his unresponsive body in the hospital. Merciful God, he didn’t even know if he’d recognize himself. In his health class, he had created a presentation on the effects of drunk driving. He had included photos of accident scenes, with bodies tangled and swollen and bleeding to the degree that they barely even looked human. He imagined he didn’t fare much better. Tongue stuck in the back of his throat, he made himself speak.

“What…what am I doing here?” He asked hesitantly.

The voice chuckled from above, a warm, deep sound that felt discordant with the atmosphere. His stomach tangled itself into knots.

“Quite to the point, aren’t we? It’ll take far too long to explain. It’s such a complex scenario that you likely wouldn’t have the faintest idea what I’m saying,” it said. “Now then, we have precious little time. If you would please…”

The darkness wavered, a lit path appearing in front of Sully. The light was not harsh nor dull. He wasn’t sure whether to fear it or move towards it. It flickered slowly, captivating his focus, although not his heart. While he wanted to trust that nothing here was out to get him, he wasn’t an idiot. His dads had warned him enough times that his kind heart would get him into trouble someday. What seemed like an appealing option right out wasn’t always the best. He leaned back onto his heels.

“What’s this about?” Sully asked, never taking his eyes off the light. The voice sighed.

“The impertinent impatience of youth will never cease to amaze me. As I have said, you are alive, but barely. I’m offering you a chance to finalize that one way or another.” It laughed as Sully opened his mouth. “You do not get a hint as to what you are supposed to do, nor why I chose you. I’ve learned that after all this time, I do not particularly need reason to act. You, however, will be given quite the motivation. Forward, if you will, Carter.”

With no small bit of trepidation, the teen stepped forward into the light. He had expected it to be warm like sunlight, filtering through a window on an autumn afternoon. While it glittered golden against his clay-colored skin, there was no warmth but instead an icy chill. Pressing his lips together, he continued on anyway.

“Before you ask, I won’t explain what this is, other than a possible adventure for the both of us. I’ve had trouble finding entertainment in the past few decades, so I certainly hope my feelings about you are correct.” The voice mused aloud. “Where you next surface, you will see two paths before you, Carter Sullivan.”

Before he could ask for clarification, Sully’s stomach was stretched between his Adam’s apple and groin, and his chest ceased rising and falling. Black spots freckled in his vision, reverting to the darkness he hadn’t been able to see through before. He couldn’t process whether he was nauseous, in pain, or both, before he found himself in another foreign setting. Sully could hardly process anything through the sunspots, but even after he could see, things weren’t much clearer.

As promised, there were two paths before him. Unlike the poem, there was no clear difference which one was less traveled on, which one was safer. Frankly, Sully felt like he was watching a movie rather than standing there. No ceiling or floor mapped out the dimension of the room, although the ends of the paths stretched on endlessly, capped with something tall and dark near the horizon. While they began in the same spot, they split off in separate directions, down opposite halves of the room—was it a room? Or just a space?—silently warning Sully that he wouldn’t have the time to change his mind at the last moment. He’d have to make a choice and stick with it.

“Hello?” He called out, hoping the voice would respond, despite being certain that it was gone—or, at least just sitting and watching. He dismissed the thought of the voice being some omnipresent god, as things were difficult enough as they were. He didn’t need his whole world view shaken all at once. As expected, there came no reply. Sending a quick prayer to his God, Sully focused on the two paths.

Each of looked equally appealing, but in different ways. The path veering to the left glittered with a metallic sheen, smooth granite pavement lined with pearls and gems the size of backyard rocks. Something down inside him wondered where anyone would have found so much precious material—it seemed like something out of an ancient palace or HBO show. The right side, however, was filled with a different sort of riches. Red brick lined packed dirt, clusters of wildflowers, and patches of grass sprouting up. It wasn’t as exciting but Sully felt as though, with a little cultivation, the flowers could spread across the whole lot, leaving a beautiful sight. He was thankful it wasn’t perfect yet; he could step around the flowers and let them grow fuller and brighter.

He hesitated. Was this some sort of reverse psychology? Would the more homely path not lead him home? Would the one that glittered condemn him as some greedy monster—which he most certainly was not—and automatically damn him to never getting to see his dads or Ava or Mom again? Possibilities ricocheted against his skull, making it difficult to focus on just one and decide. There were too many aspects, too much probability, not enough certainty of—

“I’m getting tired of waiting here. Just pick one already!” The voice chided, snapping Sully from his thoughts. Taking in a deep breath, he set out on the path of packed dirt. Before he had finished taking two steps, a low rumble sounded throughout the room. Heart thumping, he turned his head to see the granite path crack and crumble away. It seemed there really was no room for second thoughts.

“Okay, okay, you can do this.” He muttered to himself, hoping that hearing it aloud would make him feel any more certain. It didn’t. “One foot forward, and don’t look back. It’s just walking for now.” In reality, it was walking down a path in the middle of black space with no clear sense of time or direction while he was comatose after being hit by a vehicle because some sentient voice told him to. But he thinking about it that way made him more anxious than he needed to be—there would be a time to panic, and that couldn’t be until after he was safe. He did his best not to flinch at the crunch of the dirt underfoot, and ignored his mind envisioning it breaking apart as easily as the other path had.

He didn’t check behind himself to make sure it wasn’t.

When it became clear that he wouldn’t reach an end anytime soon, Sully watched the flowers as he passed. He didn’t know much about them, but Ava gushed about her favorite ones enough that he had picked up enough to recognize the daisies popping up, as well as the field lilac—she’d made certain he understood there was a difference between it and common lilac. He sighed. He missed her already. He should have taken her on more dates, instead of spreading himself so thin with volunteering and clubs and sports. It’s not like he needed to do tennis after the track season had ended, and he didn’t need to be in any clubs given the time that Student Senate took up. After dating Ava for a year, he could genuinely count the times they had spent alone together on his hands and still have extra space. She was special and beautiful and deserved more than that. If he made out of here, he vowed that he’d take her out at least once a month, and maybe more. She deserved that.

He was insanely selfish, he realized. He spent so much time trying to make his own life easier, he made it more difficult for others. His dads were probably so worried about him over all these years, running halfway across the city to do this and that, and barely remembering to give them a quick text to say he was doing fine or had arrived safely. They gave so much to him, and he didn’t give back enough. He felt sick as the thought crossed his mind that he may never get to tell them that.

But he wouldn’t have done anything differently to end up here. Not a single part of himself could ever justify even the notion of risking that little girl being hit. It would be terrible to leave his family and friends behind, and unfair for them to have to grieve him. But none of it would compare to the way that mother would have felt, seeing her child there. She would have never moved passed looking away for a few moments and having her daughter ripped away from her. He felt guilty enough that she might feel responsible for what happened to him. Oh, he hated the “what if” game. He hoped he made it through for her sake, as well.

As he continued to stride down the path, Sully realized that he didn’t actually know if the little girl was safe or not. He just assumed he was the only one hurt, but he had no way of knowing if the driver or passengers were fine, nor if the girl had made it back onto the sidewalk at all. His stomach rebelled against him, threatening to spill over as he realized how selfish he was again. He kept thinking about himself and his effect, and hadn’t considered things outside of his personal life.

Approaching the end of the path, he vowed to himself to make it out of this place, whatever it was, if only to make things right for everyone else. It wasn’t that he didn’t mind dying—he definitely wanted to live—but he wasn’t going to fight it for his own sake. If it was his time, there was nothing he could do about it. But damn if he wouldn’t keep trying to make things right until the angels finally came and took him.

As his eyes settled ahead, Sully realized that there was not one doorway, but two. He frowned. This guy?—girl?—spiritual entity certainly loved to make him pick between options without explaining them. With an indignant huff, he slouched to his knees, breathing growing shallower. A chill slithered up his spine. It certainly wasn’t because he was out of shape—he’d competed in the district relays just last week and helped the team to first in the division. He hoped there wouldn’t be many more doors.

“I see you took your time with that walk.” The voice echoed suddenly from above him, which Sully was getting used to by this point. “You could have ran, you know.”

“And miss all that sweet dolphinium?” Sully wasn’t entirely sure that was the right name for the flower, nor if he had even seen any. In all honesty, it hadn’t occurred to him to run at all, especially given the fact that he couldn’t see the end of his destination. “Now, I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me about these doors.”

The voice offered a dry laugh.

“Don’t you all have a phrase warning you against assumptions? If you had patience, Carter, you would have spared yourself the, ah, what is it? Making an ass out of yourself?” Sully’s smug grin fell as he brought himself back to his feet, glad he was too dark for his skin to flush. “These doors each present you an option, Carter Sullivan. To your left, you will find the way back into your body. This will not guarantee your survival.”

Sully opened his mouth to ask a question, but was shot down.

“I cannot tell the future, Carter. I will not be able to reveal which is the safest route. Each holds its own risk and possible reward.” The voice cleared its throat—or mystical equivalent to it—to emphasize that he had finished with that topic. “The door to your right, however, it offers great strength. Power beyond what any man has seen before lies behind it, if you’re an honest enough man to receive it. Power enough to ensure your survival.”

Sully’s tongue was swollen in his mouth, and his mind churned along at a snail’s pace. He hadn’t known what he had expected, but he never could have imagined anything like this. The nauseous feeling returned to the pit of his stomach as he tried his best to process it all. A door to his body and a door to enough power to survive his injuries. Neither were a secure move, but something about the second one just simply didn’t feel right. When he was younger, he would have done nearly anything for the chance at what even seemed remotely like a superpower. Powers were the quickest way into the Partnership, and he’d wanted nothing more than to be a hero. Even now, he wanted to still protect others.

It was why he had saved the girl in the first place.

Closing his eyes, Sully turned his head up in the direction of the voice. He pretended to ignore the shaking of his knees, and the tightness in his chest. He opened his mouth, once, twice, before opening his eyes. There was still nothing there to look at, but he stared anyhow.

“What happened to the girl? To the one that I pushed out of the way?”

The voice stayed silent, as if weighing the choice of his words on a sensitive scale. Sully kept his eyes fixated in the same place, swallowing back his worry. He needed to know if this was all worth it. He needed to know if he had saved her.

“She’s unharmed. A few bumps and bruises, and she may need some therapy later in life, but she’ll be alright. She’s alive.”

His whole body sagged with relief. She was okay. He had saved her, even at the cost of his own life. Even if technically he wasn’t dead yet. He swiped away the relieved tears that fell from his eyes, pretending they weren’t there. He didn’t have the time to cry over it now, although he didn’t doubt that he would later. He took in a short breath. Alright. This would be it, then. He could do this. Striding towards the door to the left, Sully smiled to himself. He’d made peace with whatever was about to happen.

“If that’s true, then I have enough power.”

The door opened itself, not offering any hint to what lay behind it. Part of Sully assumed it was probably “beyond normal mortal comprehension” or something to that effect. As his first foot crossed over the frame, the landscape around him whirled—the darkness of the room slowly faded, and Sully swore that he was currently standing in the complete opposite direction he had entered the room. The same golden light of the first path filtered into center of the room, bringing his attention to a large, circular dais. A series of characters lined the outer rim, but not from any language he could recognize. Perhaps he wasn’t as cultured as he liked, but he would have imagined it would be at least somewhat familiar.

“You impress me, Carter Sullivan.” The voice took on a wistful tone, as if he were cooing down at him. “A wise decision indeed. Step atop the dais, if you would.” His feet moved of their own accord, despite Sully’s desire that they stay put. He wanted this to all start making sense. He didn’t know what was coming next, but he felt it held a definite finality. His stomach lurched with each step he took closer.

“What does this mean?” He asked himself, but then shouted towards the ceiling. “What does any of this _mean_?”

“Please step atop the dais,” was the voice’s only reply.

Finally, Sully did as he was told. This time, when he stepped into the light, it was warm the way he had expected it to be. He felt light and at ease, as if the weight had dripped off his body only to be replaced with helium. He swung his foot, frowning as he realized that he could barely feel it any longer. He looked down to inspect what could be wrong, only to see that it was slowly rising further and further off the ground.

Huh. So this is what flying felt like. Was he still a man if he was flying? Did it make him a bird now? Or maybe he needed wings to be a bird. He didn’t know. Ava probably would have known. She was wonderful, and very very smart. His focus slowly faded away as the light around him grew brighter, blinding him from seeing anything.

* * *

 

Aching. Burning. Stinging. Stiffness. Sully recognized these feelings before anything else. Slowly, he opened his eyes. They stung far worse than the time he had tried to wash his eyes with shampoo in hopes that it would somehow give him laser-vision as a four year old. The room was painted with shadows, the only light in the room spilling in from the bottom of the door and off of some electronic that must have been nearby—not that he could move his neck to see. Something restricted his movement, and he had a feeling that it would only be more pain if he tried to move again.

He knew he was in a hospital. He knew his name was Sully, and he knew his dads must have been here somewhere. He didn’t know if he had been here for hours or for days. If it were the latter, his mom may be there too. Divorce or not, she had still loved him and wanted to share custody, but the job made it impossible. There was no way that Dad wouldn’t have told her, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d bought the first flight out of England to see him.

Sweet Lord. His body _hurt_. Thinking was hard. It was as if his mind was made of static, only tuning into certain channels but not for long. But he was alive. That was good. His head ached as he tried to recall what had happened. He squeezed his eyes shut. He recalled bright lights. The last thing he remembered was leaving to shop for his and Ava’s anniversary.

There was a metallic scraping noise to his right. He tried to turn his head, immediately regretting the movement. Pain shot up the right side of his body. He let out a moan. He was lucky to be alive, but getting past this was going to be a struggle. He couldn’t fathom what it would be like to not be in pain. As the pain began to plateau again, he remembered the noise.

“D...dah…” His voice was hoarse from disuse, throat dry as a desert. He was shushed, but not in the soft, gentle way his birth father comforted him. Nor was it in the rapid succession that Pops worked with.

“I am not either of your fathers, Carter Sullivan.” The voice was familiar, but Sully had trouble determining its owner. He couldn’t draw up a face. It was almost as if he had heard it in a dream.

Memory struck him like lightening. Sully jolted forward, wincing as a hand held him down. Between the blurring of his vision, he could only make out a ruddy-brown shade, only interrupted by patches of gray. The man shushed him again, a soft whistle that sent a shiver down Sully’s spine. He opened his mouth, but failed to find the words.

“You’ll wish to stay still for the time being. I wish to congratulate you, Carter. You have proven yourself quite the valiant spirit.” Sully continued to stare at him, attempting to blink the spots out of his vision. Nausea wavered through his body. “There’s much work to be done yet, so you _will_ be in discomfort for some time. A shattered skeleton is not so easily repaired, but I believe you will find your recovery…” The man paused, choosing his words carefully. “Quite satisfactory.”

He was the voice from the…the whatever that had been. This was the same cryptic bullshit that he had gone through in that place. He was alive, which meant whatever that light was had done its job. He had no idea what that entailed, but he was grateful, although confused. He narrowed his eyes at him, hoping to make out any details of his face.

“Your recovery comes with a gift, but that gift has a cost, Carter Sullivan.” There was the catch he had been expecting. “You have been determined pure of heart and pure of intention. This is what keeps you living. Your gift has a, uh…” he paused. “It is more than an item. It has a will of its own. Old, strict morals, you see. Your soul is superior to that of an average man, and your strength will now supersede most to match. But take caution; should your heart blacken, you will lose your strength. Your gift is a fickle one and will only help those it deems worthy. Are you worthy, Mr. Sullivan?”

It only made about as much sense as the rest of what had happened. Sully’s brain was made of swollen cotton, and he could hardly understand what the man was talking about. He understood one thing: powers. If what he said was true, he was going to have powers. When he was a child, he wouldn’t have asked for anything more. He only ever wanted to be like Colonel Justice or Lady Ultra, but he never had the strength for it. This was an opportunity he couldn’t have dreamt of. This was going to change everything.

“I am. I’m worthy,” he croaked, voice raspy but firm. He wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words to express his overwhelming gratitude. He settled on a simple “thank you.” The man only laughed.

“Thank me? There is no need to thank me for this. Your gift has not been bestowed by me. Your hospital bills, however, I will take credit for. After all, I was riding in the taxi that hit you. It is only fair that your family need not worry about paying for your injury.” He paused, cracking a wry smile. “Although they may not have to worry about many injuries following this one.”

“Who are you?” Sully asked with little hesitation, despite the black swarming the corners of his vision. His head slowly grew more and more static, the ache of his body begging him to go back to sleep, against the wishes of his mind. The man only chuckled and gently patted Sully’s arm. His body screamed in protest at the touch.

“I have had many names in my lifetime. I cannot guarantee if we ever meet again I hold the same one as I do now. You may simply consider me a friend.” The man stepped away from the bed and out of Sully’s view. “I anticipate great things out of you, Carter. I’ll leave you to your life, however. Your parents and that girl of yours have been quite worried. It’s only fit that I let them greet you.”

Sully would have corrected him about his name and that Ava didn’t _belong_ to him in any way if he hadn’t been so relieved at the mention of her. She was here, waiting for him. He didn’t know if she should have been in school, because frankly he didn’t know what day it was, but he wanted to see her. And his dads and mom, of course. If Mom was there—he didn’t actually know. He swore his heart was going to burst at the thought of everyone in the room here with him; he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. Trauma had a funny way of straightening out your loves and priorities.

Heavy lids blinked, and suddenly the room shifted. Nausea rushed through him as light burst into the room. He groaned, wishing he could move to cover his eyes. He recognized the gasp that followed right away—short and sharp. The same sound that he heard when he’d revealed he’d been made a starter on the track team in his freshman year.

“You’re awake.” His father’s voice quivered with emotion. He turned his head out the hall. “He’s awake! Get in here!”

Sully laughed, ignoring the aching in his chest. Tears welled in his eyes as he couldn’t help but smile despite the pain. This was going to be a new start. He was a hero. And he was going to continue to prove it.

Well, as soon as he could move again.


End file.
